


kisses from 7000 miles away

by Yersina



Series: far or near (to me you’re still dear) [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yersina/pseuds/Yersina
Summary: The ringtone from his phone jars Jisung out of his dreams, playing annoyingly jaunty music until Jisung silences it with a blind jab of his finger. “‘Ello?” he croaks into the receiver. He doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear and wishing he could go back to sleep.There’s a brief moment of silence on the other end, slightly crackly with interference, before the other person speaks. “Morning, Jisungie,” Minho says, voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wake up?”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: far or near (to me you’re still dear) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048597
Comments: 7
Kudos: 146





	kisses from 7000 miles away

**Author's Note:**

> i have SO MANY wips to work on but guess what i did today instead

The ringtone from his phone jars Jisung out of his dreams, playing annoyingly jaunty music until Jisung silences it with a blind jab of his finger. “‘Ello?” he croaks into the receiver. He doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear and wishing he could go back to sleep.

There’s a brief moment of silence on the other end, slightly crackly with interference, before the other person speaks. “Morning, Jisungie,” Minho says, voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wake up?”

“Hyung?” Jisung forces his eyes open so he can check the caller ID on screen, and sure enough, Minho’s contact info stares back at him. “What are… Isn’t it America over there?” He feels like he’s slogging through honey, thoughts moving at the speed of a snail. “Why are you calling?”

“What, I can’t just call to hear my boyfriend’s voice? I need an ulterior motive?” There’s shifting on the other end of the line that Jisung can’t summon the brain power to decipher.

“No, no,” he mumbles, turning over and curling around his stuffed animal, wishing it was Minho instead. “Talk to me, baby.”

Minho laughs, the sound achingly familiar even through the poor quality of the phone call, and Jisung can’t help smiling in return. “Hey, I called you to listen to _you_ talk. I call dibs.” Jisung draws a complete blank on any conversation starters but when he opens his mouth to tell Minho, more shifting on the other end interrupts him. “Hey, do you mind if I put you on speaker? I need to change.”

“Change?” Jisung asks blankly.

Minho hums. There’s a brief pause and when Minho speaks again, his voice is quieter, like it’s further away. “I have to go get breakfast before we head out to the dance studio.” Jisung can hear Minho unzipping his suitcase and his mind supplies him with the memory of the bulging suitcase that Minho had left with that Jisung had helped him pack. Jisung listens as Minho clearly struggles with the zipper, wiggling it back and forth several times until he groans in frustration. “Why did I do this to myself?”

“You’d think you’d learn,” Jisung chuckles softly. He rubs his eyes as he waits for Minho to find his clothes, lolling his head to the side and spotting the clock on the dresser. “Why didn’t you tell me it’s ten o’clock?” 

“It’s actually nine in the morning over here,” Minho replies absentmindedly. Jisung has the time to roll his face tiredly into his pillow before Minho crows in victory. “Hah! Brute force wins again.”

“If you break that suitcase, it’ll be the second one this year,” Jisung says with a smile, staring at the inky blackness that is the floor of their bedroom. “Suitcases are expensive.”

“This is why bundles are the superior option.” 

Jisung makes a noise of acknowledgement and contemplates getting out of bed to find food. “Going back to sleep or heating up the last of the leftovers from the delivery I ordered yesterday?”

“Foooooood.” Minho’s voice is muffled as Jisung assumes he pulls his shirt over his head. “Always food.”

Right on cue, Jisung’s stomach rumbles and Jisung groans in harmony with it. “Fine. You and my body are ganging up on me, I swear.” He puts the phone on speaker before rolling to a sitting position, groaning again when he hears several pops. “What’s on your schedule for today?” There are a few thumps on Minho’s end of the line. “Hey, if you die, I hope you left me something in your will.”

There’s another couple of seconds of silence. Jisung stretches, pulling another chorus of cracks from his joints, and fishes for a pair of pants to put on. “Don’t try to put your pants on with one hand,” Minho says breathlessly, voice suddenly closer to the speaker. “And don’t be ridiculous, of course I left you something in my will. Which definitely exists. You’d be getting Soonie, Doongie, and Dori.”

“I’ll treat them like they’re my own children,” Jisung promises solemnly. 

“You’d better.” 

Jisung brings his phone with him into the bathroom, setting it on the counter as he grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Hey, you think that Soonie would be cool living with me?” he garbles around minty foam.

“Ew, don’t talk to me while you’re brushing your teeth.” Jisung listens to Minho mutter to himself absentmindedly as he makes sure that he has all his necessary items before heading downstairs. “Soonie likes you, you know.”

Jisung spits out his mouthful of toothpaste. “Really? She never spends time around me when you’re out.” Doongie likes to curl up in his lap when Jisung is working on a new track for Chan and Dori bothers him whenever he’s sitting on the couch, but Soonie stays stubbornly aloof when her favorite human is out of the apartment.

“Well, if Soonie doesn’t like you, then it’s only fair anyway,” Minho says while Jisung rinses out his mouth. “You’ve stolen Doongie from me.”

Jisung laughs, flicking on the hall light before making his way to the kitchen. “What do you mean, I stole her from you?”

“She likes you more than me now.” The pout is audible in Minho’s voice. “Which is completely unfair, by the way. She’s _my_ cat. She should like me more.”

Jisung stops in the entrance to the kitchen, stooping down so he can give a chin scritch to Doongie. “Speak of the devil. Hey there, sweetheart,” he coos, rubbing the soft fur between her ears and running a hand down her back. “You’re looking lovely today.” Doongie purrs under his treatment and winds her way around his legs. 

“It’s stupid to be jealous of a cat, right?” 

Jisung laughs. “You’re much prettier than Minho, aren’t you?” he asks Doongie, sitting down and setting the phone next to him so he can lift Doongie into his lap. She settles with minimal fuss, sprawling out like the spoiled pet she is. “I think she must’ve just woken up,” he tells Minho, stroking Doongie’s fur slowly. “She’s very relaxed right now.”

“I don’t know who I’m more jealous of at this point,” Minho says flatly. The sharp sound of an elevator bell rings from his end of the line and Doongie raises her head at the sound, flicking an ear. Another second later and she’s out of Jisung’s lap, vanished somewhere into the living room. 

“Aw, you scared her off.” Jisung dusts off his hands, grabbing his phone and pushing back into his feet. 

“Good.” 

Jisung laughs at the exaggerated jealousy. “Don’t be so mean to your own cats,” he chides, wandering over to the other end of the kitchen and peering into the refrigerator. “That’s probably why she likes me more. Hm.” Apparently, he’s already eaten the leftovers that he’d thought he still had. He starts moving the actual food ingredients Minho keeps around in favor of finding any quick options that Jisung can scrounge up. 

“Doubtful,” Minho mutters. There’s another elevator chime and Jisung can hear the chattering of background noise as Minho steps into the lobby. “Hey, Jisung.”

“Yeah?” Jisung pulls a face at a moldy loaf of bread in the back of the fridge and gives up, deciding to make jjapagetti instead. “What’s up?” He dumps the moldy bread in the trash can, making a mental note to throw out the trash later. “Remind me to throw out the trash later.”

“Remind yourself,” Minho immediately replies. “You know English, right?”

Jisung hums, digging through the cabinets for their instant noodle packs. “More or less, I guess. Need something translated?”

“I just want breakfast,” Minho whines. “Why can’t all of the signs just be in Korean?”

Jisung makes a noise of victory, brandishing the jjapagetti. “Want me to tell you how to ask around?”

“Please.” By the time Jisung has found a pot and filled it with water, Minho finally makes his way to the breakfast hall. “Finally,” Minho echoes. “I think my stomach is trying to communicate with me verbally at this point.”

“‘Ah, yes, hello, Minho-ssi?’” Jisung summons his best cartoon voice as he tears open the package of noodles, fishing out the flavoring packets before dumping the rest into the water. “‘I’d like some friends, you know, because it’s all dark and scary down here all by myself…’”

Minho gasps dramatically. “Are you implying that my stomach eats its friends?”

Jisung laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying, honestly. I just woke up like fifteen minutes ago.”

Minho hums in sympathy. They both fall into comfortable silence as they prepare their food. Jisung nearly burns his noodles but saves it at the last moment when Minho reminds him to take it off the stove. “How do you survive when I’m not there with you?”

“Lots and lots of delivery.” Jisung grabs a pair of chopsticks from their drawer of utensils and bumps it shut with his hip. “I’m not completely incapable of taking care of myself, you know.” 

“I beg to differ.” Minho crunches down onto what sounds like a piece of toast and his chewing fills the line. “There was that one time you set off the fire alarm twice in one week.”

“Ew, I hate the sound of chewing,” Jisung complains, but he takes his phone with him to the dining table all the same. “And that was because Felix was over—you know that.” He begins taking his revenge on Minho by slurping up the noodles as obnoxiously as possible.

“Fuck you, Han Jisung,” Minho says delightedly. “What are you doing? Gargling mouthwash?”

“Nnn mmm nnnnng nnnnnnn,” Jisung mumbles around his mouthful. 

“Uh huh.” 

A temporary truce is called as they finish their food. Minho pauses in the middle to complain about rubbery eggs and Jisung finishes his meal by chewing through the large lump of congealed noodles that he hadn’t managed to save, but it’s a more peaceful affair than some of their meals have been. 

“Like, how was I supposed to know—oh wait, hold on.” Minho’s voice gets fainter as he presumably pulls his phone away from his ear to check a notification. “Shoot, I just got a text from the manager that we’re leaving in ten minutes,” Minho says apologetically. “I have to go.” 

Jisung deposits his empty pot in the sink to wash later, chewing on his lip. “Oh.” He doesn’t like the obvious disappointment in Minho’s voice or the sadness beginning to rise in his own chest, but there’s nothing that he can do about Minho’s schedule. “Well, I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, but neither of them hang up. Jisung makes his way to the couch in silence, curling up in the far corner where Minho usually likes to lounge, and quietly turns speakerphone off so he can hear Minho’s voice more clearly. “I’ll be back in another two weeks,” Minho finally says. The background noise has faded away and Jisung wonders if Minho’s back in his hotel room, grabbing his bag so he can make his way to the bus that will take him to the dance studio. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll call as often as I can.”

“I know you will.” Jisung stares at their coffee table, illuminated faintly by the kitchen light, and worries his lip. “Still miss you though.”

Minho sighs. “Yeah. Miss you too.” 

After a few seconds of painful silence, Jisung shakes himself out of his slump to summon a smile that Minho can’t see. “Love you, baby.” He smacks a loud kiss into the receiver and laughs when Minho makes a noise of disgust.

“Ugh, never mind, I take it back. I’m staying in America forever.” 

Jisung snorts. “Good riddance. See if you ever find someone as amazing as me ever again.” 

Minho pauses for just slightly too long and Jisung braces himself for whatever cringe-worthy love confession is about to come out of his mouth. “You’re right, you’re the only one for me, baby,” Minho says like he’s auditioning for the lead to a romance drama. Jisung has to swallow the reflexive snort that threatens to burst out of him. “I don’t know how I can ever live without you.” 

Jisung rolls his eyes, glad for the way the distance hides the growing grin on his face. “I don’t know either. I can’t believe you can survive so far away from my greatness.”

“You’re an asshole, Jisungie,” Minho laughs.

“But you love me anyway,” Jisung sings. 

Minho sighs loudly, but it’s just the right mix of fondness and exasperation. “Yeah, I do.”

Jisung smiles softly, wanting so badly to be able to reach out and cup Minho’s cheeks. “Love you too, baby.”

Minho, despite his earlier protests, also audibly kisses the air in farewell. Jisung resists the urge to grin and squeal like a teenage girl. “Gotta go.”

“Bye! Go knock their socks off.” Jisung sends one last kiss down the phone line and holds it against his ear until he hears the line go dead.

He sighs, balancing the phone on the arm of the couch and wiggling his way down the couch until he’s lying flat on the cushions and staring up at the ceiling. Even though he knows that Minho loves what he does and wouldn’t change anything about their relationship for the world, it still doesn’t make the weeks apart hurt any less. 

“Come back soon,” he whispers to the ceiling, and doesn’t sleep until the sun reappears in the sky. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/yersin_a) | [tumblr](https://littlenookofnonsense.tumblr.com/) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/yersin_a)


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